


Thursday

by MingMong1106



Category: Poetry - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hints at romance, I did this for a school project, Inspired by Poetry, Jealousy, Manipulation, Murder, Original Characters - Freeform, Summer Love, They're orphans, hints at narcissism, set in Russia for some reason
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-20 06:14:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30000510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MingMong1106/pseuds/MingMong1106
Summary: Magda and Maude are living with their uncle and Aunt in a castle devoid of all company.All they have is each other, and a gardener that only works on Thursdays.





	Thursday

**Author's Note:**

> (This was inspired by a poem i read called 'Sister maude by Christina Rossetti'
> 
> I did this for a school project so the themes are not too mature.
> 
> Please let me know if there should be any improvements or if you want to hear more from me in the future.
> 
> see more notes at the end.)

It began in the summer. 

The first thing I did was wake up. I lay still; there’s nothing else to do other than analyse my surroundings and watch my breath rise and fall with the beginning of day. Auntie has made something in the kitchen again which explains the smell; it’s not good or bad, just a smell. It’s always confused me as to why we don’t get a maid to do it for us however it may be because of Uncle’s inept ability to tolerate anyone other that me, my sister, his wife and the two gardeners I only ever see on Thursdays, but it sometimes feels like they’re never there. There's a few things to do, every week Auntie gives us lessons on crochet but they’re usually uneventful excluding the frequent pain I inflict on my sister from kicks under the table when I’m bored. I eventually mustered the courage to leave the warm nest of duvet I had accumulated in the night and face the cold morning air and and even more cold morning meal.

I had the same thing we have every morning, eggs and cheese. Afterwards I had the urge to take a walk so I put away my plate and left the house. We have three gardens that I only visit occasionally, the maze, the fountain and my parents memorial garden. The memorial garden has two statues of both my parents either end about 50 metres apart from one another, that is where I decided to go. We never chose to be close, Maude and I, but I reckon there’s some invisible force that keeps us glued to the hip. We have no real reason not like one another, but I think if I’d never met the girl and I passed her in the street, I wouldn’t bat an eye.

There's a reason we moved here, to the castle far away from the city. It’s because when my sister and I were 10 our father was assassinated and Uncle and Auntie didn’t want us to share the same fate as we were rich and well known. I remember enough to mourn, it’s like he wasn’t there at all.

As I walked down the path I saw what looked to be a tall male figure out of the corner of my eye cutting the edge by my mothers patch. I stared for a while, in awe of the sight of a non-blood relative. A midst this thought he turned to me suddenly and stared back, but I held my ground and continued staring. He lifted a large brown grass-stained paw and waved to me before signalling for my presence. As I slowly walked over I began to see more of his features, the most prominent being his large blue eyes, the same colour as the sky. Once I had arrived I realized I had underestimated the height of this man, he was strong and well built through obvious years of labor.

“you’re the princess,” He said, he looked me up and down before meeting my eyes; this feeling of being acknowledged was not something I’m used to and without knowing a smile overcame my face sending electric through my cheeks, this one wasn’t forced.

“It’s Magdalena isn’t it?” he smiled back.

“Yes,” I replied, followed by a short laugh, “Sorry, my entire name isn’t said often…” he shook his head, still smiling.

“Come with me.” I followed him to my mother’s memorial, he took out his large dirt encrusted shears and messily snipped off the head of a large blue rose that had been planted on my mothers ashes 15 years ago and gave it to me. For a moment I stood in shock, such an act would’ve come across as disrespectful, although I was never told to touch them, it was always just an unspoken rule of respect.I reached out and took the flower, admiring the bloom now entered in the palm of my hand, the large stem that once gathered the nutrients it needed to survive now weeped into my hands, I imagine I did the same to her, I like to think the doctors let her hold us before she died, maybe then she would’ve made it. Emotion overcame me and unknowingly a large tear fell down my cheeks, the gardener lifted a strong hand and wiped it from my face.

“Don’t cry.” he said in a low affirming tone. Rose in hand I walked away, turning the corner to see my sister, her stern eyes felt like bleach on mine.

“Don’t talk to him anymore.” I glared and walked away.

I reached my room and took care to close my door quietly. Kneeling down I opened my palm and sure enough, the pale blue of my mothers rose was sat there. The petals had become slightly wilted and droopy from the warmth of my hand. I became overwhelmed with a sudden feeling of panic, no, she can’t die again. I opened my wardrobe and carefully placed her inside. After closing the doors I stood up and walked to the window, I lurched forward when I saw the gardener, only one problem, he was standing with Maude.

My cheeks flared up and I felt a hard unmoving, lump form in the back of my throat. I watched them talk for a while until Maude finally left, not knowing how to feel I rushed to the top of the stairs and waited for her to come up.

“What did you say!” But my question was met with a cold look and silence. There was nothing I could do but get ready for dinner.

Dinner was usually interesting, Uncle sat at the head of the table as per usual with Maude on the right and me on the left. Auntie eventually came in with the food, an unidentifiable meat perched precariously on the edge on the plate accompanied by numerous vegetables. During this period I liked to think about my plans for the next day, only this time I couldn’t stop pining for my encounter about the tall man with the shears. I tried to re-imagine all the details of our conversation, trying not to forget a moment.

“Magdalena, sit up and eat.” Blasted Auntie, the suddenness of the transportation from my head to the real world left me dizzy, but I did as I was told.

“Now now darling.” Uncle said calmly, he turned to me and smiled, despite how unnerving his features were I maintained eye contact without returning the smile.

The days after were long and tiresome, I resented the length with a passion. Maude didn’t seem to be trailing me anymore, which I was grateful for, the only times I ever saw here were at dinner and occasionally in uncle’s study, but I never paid much mind to that, I had more important things to worry for.

The moment I woken up on Thursday I practically sprung out of bed. I opened my wardrobe and lifted out the rose, it was surprisingly intact considering it had been devoid of sunlight and water for a week.

I ran downstairs to go to the memorial garden. Sure enough, there he was. He turned to me when he saw me coming and signaled for me to come, I jogged steadily over.

“Good morning,” he chimed “it’s lovely to see you again, Magdalena.” I smiled and looked to my shoes, suddenly realizing I knew not of his name.

“May I enquire your name?” I asked, making sure I didn’t come off as rude or impolite.

“Adrien,” he said calmly, “that’s what you can call me.” I suddenly remembered the flower, I brought it out and showed that I had kept it intact for him, he said I had taken good care of it, the next thing I remember is that he took it from me and left, that was all. I never thought it would be so quick, turns out there was no fanfare. I left to prepare for evening dinner.

The following week was the same as always, I couldn’t see Adrien on Thursday because Maude has asked me help her clean uncle’s beloved fountain. I couldn’t help but feel anxious, I didn’t want to be rude for not showing up on time but I pushed away these thoughts and focused my thoughts on the mind-numbing repetitive action of scraping away the green organisms that inhabited the fountain.

Later that evening uncle questioned me on why I hadn’t been visiting the garden as much as I had the past week, I told him I was just tired, shortly after Maude sent me a dirty look so I kicked her under the table, despite the punishment it was definitely worth it.

The following Thursday I rushed to see Adrien, I wanted to apologize, as soon as I saw him I ran over, he didn’t turn around.

‘Adrien?” I said. He turned around, his face no longer held the supportive gaze but more of a stern and unnerving glare, panic coursed through my system as though I had been tased.

“i waited for you,” he growled “You can’t do that.” He turned around sharply and began trimming the bush again.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t think you would mind…” I was beginning to feel desperate “I won’t doing it again I promise.” Just as I was on the verge of tears he turned around and met me with a smile.

“Never leave me again.” His tone of voice didn’t seem to match his facial expression, but I was grateful for his forgiveness nevertheless. His smile dropped.

“You can go now.” I did as I was told and ran towards the house, as I was running I saw Maude watching from the window, once I was inside I decided to confront her.

“why do you keep watching me?!” I shouted, she didn’t respond, her face unchanging.

“You’re jealous aren’t?” I smirked, I’d figured it out “because he loves me and not you, for once you’re not the centre of attention” I began to laugh.

“Jealous? Jealous?? You don’t even exist to me!” Her face was full of disgust and pain, it hurt to look at. “I don’t think you know what you’re getting yourself into, but you’ll see soon” She walked towards the study. I stood there for a few moments trying to recollect and evaluate what I’d just heard before running up the stairs and shutting my doors until next Thursday.

This continued for a while, this routine. Rushing to see Adrien, hoping I would be forgiven for being late. I spent the whole summer in that garden, so many beautiful days spent with him. It was approaching winter when it happened, the air was noticeably more crisp and chill than the previous days, the ground more slippery, the same every year.

These days I had been feeling more drained, my routine was strictly Adrien and nothing else, I had to see him as much as possible when he was around. I could never skip a day, although I’ve grown accustomed to telling myself that those days were worth it.

This day was a Wednesday, Maude had asked me to help her with folding clothes and bed sheets. As I was folding a white linen pillowcase she asked a question.

“Are you seeing him tomorrow?” I didn’t respond, “I don’t think you should go.” She told me, I stood up with such a force a tore a hole through the middle of the pillow case.

“It’s not that easy!” I yelled “I can’t just not go!” I looked away with heavy eyes, I was so tired.

“You’re afraid of him,” she said “Fear isn’t love, Magda.” She said this so matter of factly I had to restrain myself from smacking her, only father had called me Magda. I became infuriated.

“Stop trying to take away my happiness!” I couldn’t stop now “I love him and he loves me, though I and not been born at all, he’d never have looked at you!” It was like a surge of fire has escaped my chest. And with that, Maude got up and left, leaving me standing there, pillowcase in hand. The next thing I remember hearing was the booming cry that could only be from Uncle rise up the stairs.

“WHAT!?”

That was the last I saw of him, my summer love. The rest of the days grew agonizingly colder and colder, I pushed away the relief that cam with his death and decided to instead

ferment in my own grief. I envied Maude’s ability to carry on as normal, I couldn’t believe she had the blatant audacity to lie like that, but she was uncle’s favorite so I’m not surprised he believed her. All those years crying for my toys finally paid off for her. The only thing I resent the most is that I never had a chance to say goodbye.

This morning I awoke to the faint pitter-patter of snow on my window, it was a Thursday. I grimaced as the skin on my semi-warm foot touched the death-cold wood of my floor. Maude stared at me the whole time during breakfast like she knew I was hurting, like she wanted me to hurt. I gave her a firm kick under that table, shortly after I received a hard smack from Auntie, she stopped staring after that.

After breakfast I went outside, just to breath, that is all I wanted. As I passed the entrance to the maze I glanced over and that’s when I saw her, standing by the statue of my mother. I hated how much she resembled her, and how I didn’t. A sudden deep and animal rage overcame me and I sprinted toward her. At full force I lunged my entire body weight at her, she went down like a brick from a balcony. I twisted myself so that I could place my knees on her shoulder to restrict her movement and grasped her neck tightly. As I stared into her eyes for a split second I saw my own, but that image was quickly replaced by the prideful gaze of Maude’s, there was no fear to be seen.

“Why aren’t you afraid!” I screamed.

“I don’t… need to be,” My grip tightened around her neck making it harder for her to breathe “I have never feared you… fear means power… and you have none.”

“Shut up!” I yelled as my fist made contact with her lower jaw. I saw a tear old down her cheek, then I realized it was mine. “Shut up!”

The rest of the memories from that day have all seemed to blur into one, though I still remember every feeling, every sound and every smell. That familiar feeling of deep and painful hate I’ve felt all my life, the satisfying crunch of Maude’s neck as my fist connected with her head over and over and the sweet rustic smell of tears and blood in my lungs, still lingering to this day. Maybe I will be forgiven if I come knocking at heaven gate,

But sister Maude,

Oh sister Maude,

Bide you with death and sin.

The end.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! As I have said, if there's anything to be improved please let me know, i hope you enjoyed my first attempt at writing on this website.


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